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Best Stories on the Web
All genres, all writers, all here.

Here, on Short-Story.me we publish only the highest quality stories from great writers around the world. To have work published on Short-Story.me is testament to the finest writing ability. Once published, we share your success with others and give good writing, great publicity. The site receives in excess of 300,000 page views per month and is the number one site on search engines for various genres.

We have a category for everyone. So why not sharpen your skills, your pencil and your wits and commit that story to paper? Give our followers what they want to read and get your name in front of thousands of readers every week.

Best of luck in your writing endeavors.

 
 

Merrell. The Monstrous Man of Maintenance

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I had told the bull-headed nun not to hire crazy old Merrell, but me being seen as a stupid kid, Sister Bernard would hear none of my input. Merrell’s past record should have been enough to keep the old man away from children, but Sister Bernard insisted he was no longer a threat, just a poor man who needed help since the car accident that left him a cripple three years ago.

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Outlast

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The alarm blares and plucks me out of dreamland. It’s mid-winter, still dark, and my feet are twin blocks of ice, hanging off my bed in the chilly apartment. I pick up my device and silence the alarm. The screen flashes a wash of electric color; I blink and roll onto my side, tucking my feet under the blanket. The room comes to me in shapes and bruised colors. Then I remember.

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Homecoming

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Terry Belcher’s hands were wet with perspiration as he nervously thought about his high school’s homecoming dance, which was scheduled to take place in less than a week.  A senior at Cardinal Worthy High School in Scranton, PA, Belcher was determined to attend since this was the big fall event for his graduating class.  Terry had planned to ask his good friend Lisa Brooks to the dance but was taken by surprise when she told him that she had “other plans” for the weekend.  Other plans?  What the hell did that mean?

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Cat Tale

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Adoption counselor Jan Mulford studied the form before her.  A man named Mark Hazlett was applying to be a pet parent to the loving and playful calico named Miss Kitty.  Although she loved all of the pets in the Humane Society, Jan did occasionally find favorites, and Miss Kitty was one of them.  Jan had secretly been considering adopting Miss Kitty herself, even though she already had a cat.  Jan wondered why this Dr. Hazlett wanted a cat.  He was 35 years old, around her own age, and he had never owned a cat before, only dogs.

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Dorris Drive

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James let the rust-spotted white 1977 Cadillac he got from his great-uncle Wilber coast down the narrow path with overgrown oak trees slapping the sides of the mechanical beast while it rolled along the pitch dark gravel road. The lights were kept off to avoid alerting anyone or anything that may be about and he had the radio off; the solitary sound coming from the slight roar of the beastly V-8 engine. After about thirty of the longest minutes he ever lived though a sign appeared on the left side of the road eerily standing out from the low hanging branches.

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Marvin Greene

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I think about my friend from back in the day, Marvin Greene. I first remember his smile, his overall body language, his strut and his distinctive voice. Then something else pops up and I get distracted. Last time that happened, I made a serious mental note to find a quiet time to reflect.

I’d always promise to take that time and sit down to remember Marvin Greene. To recall when we met and became unlikely friends. And how sadly, our friendship lasted less than a year.

I finally did.

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Small Town Horror

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Metro Meats was a slaughterhouse here in town that employed a lot of young people during the seventies. My aunty used to work there, but a number of young men, some still alive, but older now, did their best to ruin her time at the place.

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The Neighbour

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It is subtle, but then my nose hairs start to burn as the smell travels down my throat. I sit up, jump out of bed, quickly turn off the fan, and expect the little bastard to pass by my house and travel down the street, but unfortunately I hear his squeaky, annoying voice.

“It is me, the famous neighborhood skunk in search of food!” he shouts.

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